


Miso soup, with love....

by Ladycroft4evr



Category: DAKAICHI (Anime), 抱かれたい男1位に脅されています。 | Dakaretai Otoko Ichii ni Odosarete Imasu (Manga)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:21:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26261071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladycroft4evr/pseuds/Ladycroft4evr
Summary: Junta catches a cold on an outdoor shoot, Takato gets worried and makes him some miso soup. Just another normal evening in their busy lives, albeit with soup...
Relationships: Azumaya Junta/Saijou Takato
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43





	Miso soup, with love....

Hot studio lights, call sheets, a million wires entangled every which way on the floor, a challenging role. Takato was in heaven as he leafed through script pages and someone fussed with his makeup. Heaven reminded him of angels… just one, if he was being honest. Chunta…The assistant director hailed him, and he walked up for the next scene after thanking the makeup artist.

As he delivered his lines, he thought of Junta again. He hadn’t called all day. True, he had an outdoor shoot and he did call the night before. They both had busy schedules as always. But never too busy for him to not call… Slightly worried, Takato placed a call to Junta between shots.

“Takato San,” he sounded pumped as always, “Did you miss me?”  
Takato ignored the blush that warmed his cheeks and replied in trademark curt fashion, “Why didn’t you call today? Are you alright?”

“Just a bit of cold, I think.”

“Huh? What do you mean, cold,” all his feigned nonchalance gave way to concern and outrage. “Why aren't they taking care of you?”

“They are. My outdoor shoot included rain. Remember they made it rain in our first drama…” his voice was soft as he trailed off, nostalgia making him smile.

“You got drenched shielding me from the water,” Takato felt a bit nostalgic himself. And then : “ _hold on, whom did you shield this time?_ ”

Another soft laugh from that end. “Ah, are you jealous?”

“In your dreams,” he muttered.  
That cheered him up a bit more, “Oh in my dreams you-"

“Shut up. When are you coming home?”

“Soon. I –” a pause, a sneeze.

“Oi, Chunta,” Takato was seriously worried now. “Come home. I don’t want you falling sick…”

“I'll be home soon,” he assured Takato. “My flight arrives tomorrow at noon.”

“Noon.” Takato calculated the time from his set to the airport. If he began shooting a bit earlier or took a break... he hated inconveniencing people though. If he sent Sasaki San…Better idea. He could finish up early and hurry home in time to catch Junta.

“Takato San?” He could imagine what went through Takato's little head. “I'll get home myself, don’t cut your shoot or trouble Sasaki San.” Junta didn’t like the idea of not bringing Takato home himself, which was bad enough, he’d hate it if Sasaki San weren’t there either. “Takato San, are you there?”

“Yes, I am here. Why would you keep working if you had a cold?”

“So I could finish soon and come home to you,” he replied without missing a beat.

“Chunta...” Exasperation and affection warred within. Takato couldn’t censure him when he himself was used to pushing limits when it came to illnesses. “Just come home,” was all he could say.

“I will.”

“Take care.”

“I miss you, Takato San.”

“I – ” he swallowed. “I miss you too.” Takato hung up quickly before he said something uncharacteristic and incredibly mushy. He had plans to make. He found Ayagi on his contact list and hit dial.

“Saijo San..” Ayagi chirped into the phone, a little too exuberant for Takato. “Did you finally decide to dump that irritating angel and come to me?”

“Shut up, Ayagi. I need a favor. Are you free tomorrow?”

“Oh, anything for you, Saijo San,” he replied cheerfully. “What can I do for you?”

Takato gave him instructions, then went looking for Sasaki San. He had schedules to rearrange and plans to make.

Next day noon: Junta walked out of the airport by himself, basic famous-person-disguise of sunglasses and hat in place. It was just him and his carry-on, as he had dispatched off his agent earlier. He was so drained he wasn’t feeling up to company. If he could just get home to Takato San… A little bit of rest and he’d be right as rain. He could plan something for Takato San while he recharged… The thought gave him enough energy to smile.

And surprise, surprise…there was this car outside where his cab should have been, and who would be leaning against it with the same famous-person-disguise as his…Ayagi. Junta’s smile turned into a frown.

“What are you doing here?”

Ayagi's smile was irritatingly smug. “I'm doing Saijo San a favor. Getting you home.” He opened the trunk for Junta’s suitcase, winked at him. “He promised me something in return, too.”

Junta tossed his bag in. “What?” He asked suspiciously.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Ayagi laughed as he opened the passenger door. And that’s when he heard it…the eery recorded voice coming from the damned doll: _By the way, Ayagi Chihiro kun…_

“Eek,” he couldn’t help cringing at that. “Put that cursed thing away. He promised not to rag on me for a week on the sets of Clear 2. I'm doing a guest spot.” With that he got in, started the engine. Drat Mr.Angel for carrying a million copies of the stupid recording. If anybody heard… he sighed. He was a good guy now. Didn’t he deserve some slack…he was chauffeuring the guy on his off day, too. Some people…

Junta got in, stuffing the recorder in his pocket. He was too tired to do anything else. Ayagi was doing Takato San a favor after all. “Thank you.”

“Sure, sure.” Ayagi decided to let him off; guy looked beat. Maybe he could rag on Saijo San instead, he thought with a wicked grin.  
Junta fell asleep thinking of Takato, and Ayagi’s ludicrous wink.

Takato let himself in to the apartment, armed with a grocery bag and a care package from Sasaki San and family. He was going to make some soup for when Junta woke up. He set his keys down, careful not to make any loud noises. Balancing his bags, he scooped his ring up from the little tray and made his way to the kitchenette to put everything away. They had enough food for two days thanks to Rina San, that he could heat up later. First, he wanted to check on Junta.  
He was sleeping, curled up on his side like a child… he looked too tired. Why would he push himself so much to the limit.. He knew why, but still. Idiot angel. He ran a hand through Junta’s hair, gently so he wouldn’t wake up. “I'll make you some soup, Chunta,” he said softly as he got up and went back to the kitchen.

Junta woke up to find the clock struck 6 a while ago. Damn his body for not cooperating…He only had enough energy to shower and get to bed, never mind waiting up for Takato San with any sort of surprise. The surprise was on him as he spied Takato's jacket on the living room sofa's arm. He wondered when Takato San got home. He also wondered if he had dreamed it or it really was Takato San caressing his hair and promising him soup.

Takato turned the page, studying the script for his upcoming project seriously, pushing the glasses up his nose a bit in-character. Brainiac professor for the next one, no-nonsense framed glasses the character’s signature. He came up with this little flick, that signaled the professor was calling someone’s bluff. With attitude to match and a look that would freeze any bullshit excuse students would come up with. He wondered what else he could add…

Junta watched the little flick of his fingers as Takato pushed those professor-y glasses up his nose. As always, he was amazed at how every fibre of Takato’s being seemed to be immersed in the role, right down to his fingertips. He could also smell miso soup in the apartment… Takato San really did cook for him..? He wasn’t dreaming then…Suddenly overcome, he rushed to the sofa where Takato was still going over his script.

Takato wondered if Chunta was up yet. He did heat up the soup because he stirred in sleep and looked like he was going to wake up soon…and then the breath whooshed out of him as arms came around him, strong vises. “Thanks, Takato San,” came the accompanying whisper in his ear.

“Oi, let me go I can’t breathe-”

“Ah, sorry. I saw you after so long I couldn’t resist…”

“You were only gone two days,” he grumbled as he reached for the script on the floor, which Junta had knocked off his hands with that bear hug. “How are you now?”

“Better for seeing you,” he answered Takato with a dazzling smile.

“I made you some soup,” he rose to get it.

“Yes, I can smell it,” Junta tagged along happily. “Miso?”

“You have a cold, so I thought,” he put some in a bowl, stuck it in the microwave. “nutrients and things. It’s good for you.” he shrugged. “I hope you like it.” He wasn’t some super chef like Chunta, but he hoped the soup would do the job for Chunta's cold.

“Takato San, if you served poison with your hands-"

“Shut up, idiot. Why would I -" he busied himself with flatware. He said the damnedest things some times.

“Takato San,” Junta put his hands firmly on Takato’s shoulders and turned him around, laid one on his lips. “I missed you,” he murmured between kisses.

“I…missed you too,” Takato wrapped his arms around him, held him close. “Don’t do this to yourself, please. Take your time and shoot, don’t rush, don’t push yourself too hard. I'll still be here when you get home.”

“Takato San…” he drew back to look at Takato, and most certainly looked like he was going to skip the soup.

The microwave beeped.

“Your soup,” Takato pulled back, got the bowl out. “Here. Have some. How was the shoot?”

Junta sighed, took the bowl from him. Takato San had his mind set on taking care of him. He opened the cabinet for another bowl. “Let’s get you some, too. I'll tell you about my shoot, and you can tell me about yours. Ayagi is doing a guest spot on your show?”  
“Yes,” Takato took the second bowl from Junta, filled it and put it in the microwave.

“He’s not troubling you, is he?” Junta thought of Ayagi’s grin while he was pulling out of the airport, twirling his spoon around in the broth.

“No, he is not. Eat it, it'll get cold. How was yours?”

“Oh, the usual…”

Takato got his bowl out and sat down next to Chunta, glad he was home, and glad that he was feeling better. Somehow he ended up talking about his latest show again. Junta exceled at turning the subject around to him as usual, but he was happy to talk however much Junta liked to. He was just happy to have him home…


End file.
